"I just got back from Majorca"

"From Majorca? Where's that?"

"I don't know, we flew."

That's an old borscht belt joke. It is on a Myron Cohen album, right after the joke about the Klopman Diamond. ("That's a huge diamond on your ring. Yes, it's the Klopman Diamond. It's cursed, you know. Really? What's the curse? Mister Klopman).

So yesterday, we flew. Ronnie has a surprise trip planned for me for my 60th birthday. She didn't spill anything, and I went out of my way to not learn what or where it was. So while the Pope was on his way to give Mass on the Parkway, we headed to the airport. At first, Ronnie didn't even want me to know where we were flying from Philly, which was kind of funny, because that flight went to Dallas/Ft. Worth, which I was pretty confident Dallas was not our final destination (though it is sort of hell-like).

Since DFW is one of the busiest hubs in the country, being there was no clue at all, but eventually we got on a plane for Vancouver, BC, and the secret was out. Lots of flying on full planes, but surprisingly not unpleasant.

We got off at the very attractive airport here, cleared customs, which was 4 dudes just hanging out near the exit checking passports, walked out to the taxi stand and there was this moon fragment in the sky. I'd kind of forgotten about the eclipse because we'd been flying, but it was right after the moon had begun to reappear. By the time we got to the hotel it was about halfway back.

So here we are. I've always wanted to visit Vancouver and am looking forward to seeing it in daylight. Or at least full moonlight.